The Train at Mobil Station
by vertigoSWAY
Summary: Fischer believes he's been incepted and hires the team to find out who did it. As they trick their way around his subconsciousness, sure that their reality is real, another world crashes into theirs leaving them confused and clueless. Post-Movie
1. Room 528

**Title is a ref to _The Matrix_ (mobil = anagram of limbo) and significance of trains in this film.**

**Post-movie. I'll let you figure out for yourself if Cobb's in limbo or in reality. /wink/  
****A little shaky in the beginning, but bear with me. Just outlining the fic was another mind-trip for me. Enjoy!**

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It was raining outside.

But it was just normal rain. Wet and annoying, not in a dream where you could just wake up and be dry again. There were no paradoxes, no impossible staircases and no Escher buildings. Just reality and physics.

And an extremely soaked girl.

Ariadne held her relatively light book bag over her head to shield herself from the rain. She'd been at Professor Miles's classroom studying for next week's exams when she lost track of time. She was just a few precious moments from graduating. One month ago, she was certain of her future. A career in architecture was one that she had pursued ever since high school.

And then the inception came along. The Architect wasn't sure of her footsteps anymore. Was building in the real world worth it if you could build anything you wanted in the dream world? Anything, even things that defied logic and physics.

Stepping into the lobby of the hospital she promptly went the restrooms to get the water out of her hair. Once she looked at least slightly presentable, she signed in at the receptionist's desk and started on the route that she knew so well.

Down the right hallway, elevator on the left. Floor 5. Out the elevator to the left, ten doors down on the right.

Room 528…

Without the 491.

Digging a key out of her pocket, she slotted it in to the keyhole. It was the only room in the entire hospital with a custom fit key. Ariadne slowly turned the door handle like she always did, as if she was afraid of whoever was inside. It was just a silly game really. It wasn't as if the people inside were ever awake.

Softly shutting the door behind her, she locked the door and pocketed the key. She set her book bag a ways from the door, on one of the many chairs in the room. Two people lay sleeping –maybe forever- on two hospital beds. In the middle was a briefcase.

Neither person could wake up, not until something was completed. They couldn't drink; they couldn't eat. Tubes fed into their bloodstreams and the sights of it made Ariadne feel pity every time.

The door behind Ariadne shot open again. The girl did not jump up in surprise. She'd been expecting it. This was how it always played out.

"How are they?" a man asked as he was followed by someone else.

"You always ask that," she replied. There was a small bitter tone to her voice. "Not getting any better or any worse."

"You always say that," the man responded.

"Now come on Arthur," the other man chastised, patting his back jokingly. "No need for a bit of bantering."

Arthur shrugged the man off. "Shut up Eames."

"How long do you think it's going to take?" Ariadne asked. She gestured vaguely at the scene before them.

"However long it takes him to find Saito."

"Unless they've both been scrambled already," Eames put in. "It's been one month out here. God knows how long it's been in there."

"But Cobb's been in Limbo before right? Um, with Mal. And they're sharing the dream so he created it in the first place. Wouldn't it be easy for him get out? I got out. So did Fischer."

"You were only in there for a moment," Arthur said. "You escaped before the world collapsed."

"And he didn't which means-"

"The higher the probability that he's accepted it as his reality," Eames cut off.

"Doesn't mean that he's not trying," argued Arthur.

"Doesn't mean he is either," Eames shot back.

"Would you stop bickering?" Ariadne asked, not willing to put up a fight.

There was a small moment of silence, almost of reminisce. They were thinking. Thinking about the days before inception. Eames remembered the team he used to have and the rendezvous with Cobb whenever the Extractor needed his skills. Arthur remembered the hundreds of missions before this and Ariadne tried to imagine her simple college life. Now they were all stuck there in Paris, looking after two men that could never wake up.

"I got a message," Eames finally said.

"An offer?" Arthur asked, eyebrows raised.

"Don't worry. Sent some kid off the street to rendezvous at the Metro."

"From who?" asked the young woman.

"Wouldn't give me his name."

"But we don't do extraction anymore. We don't _have_ an extractor."

"No way out of this one. Past employers are asking questions. Where's Cobb? Where's Saito? We can't bribe Saito's company any longer. Called Yusuf, he's heading in. Should be here tomorrow."

"Fine," Arthur said. "Here, tomorrow, same time."

They all nodded.

* * *

Miles sat at his desk in the university classroom. Ariadne had rushed off to the hospital and now he was preparing to leave when the phone call came. It ran less frequently now. Used to be every day. Then it dwindled down to every few days to every few weeks.

"Hello?" he called into the phone.

"Grandpa!" came the voice of young Phillipa.

"Hello darling. Are you being good for Gran?"

"We're going to make cookies."

Miles smiled. "Save one for me alright?"

"And daddy," the young girl added.

Miles opened his mouth as if to retort. Instead he just replied with a simple, "Yeah."

"Grandpa? Where'd daddy?" The sound of James agreeing in the background could be heard.

"Daddy's a bit sick but he'll get better alright?"

"Come home?"

Miles pondered the answer for a moment. Things were more complicated then they let on. But children were just children. They couldn't understand and he knew that Cobb wouldn't want them to understand, not yet. "Yeah," he half-lied. "Then he'll come home."


	2. Treading on Scrambled Egg Shells

Eames arrived there first the next day, after picking Yusaf off from the airport. He held files in his hand. A few papers were scattered on the coffee table in the room. Arthur and Ariadne sat down next to them and formed a circle, almost like a council, except the leader was missing.

"So what've we got?" Arthur asked.

"Basic extraction. Shouldn't take but two levels if we want to be careful except…"

He trailed off and shot Yusaf a small glance. "Except what?" Ariadne prompted.

"The offer is from the head of Fischer Enterprises," Yusaf blurted out before Eames could stop him. The Forger shot him a glare. Yusaf shrugged apologetically.

The breathing in the room stopped. "It _what_?" Arthur spat out.

"I've got exams next week," Ariadne quipped. It was the first thing that came to her mind when she was suddenly pulled back to the gravity of the situation.

"I'm sure Cobb's daddy-in-law would give you an exception," Eames said.

"I have other courses too," she countered.

"That's not point," Arthur said, interrupting their banter. "The most important thing is does he remember us?"

"Not that I know of." Eames shook his head."Then again he's never associated our names with our faces."

"Who do we extract from?"

"Him."

"What?"

"Oh, come on Arthur, it's an easy concept. We share a dream and-"

"I _know_ how extraction works Eames."

"Then what's so hard about it?"

"What do we extract?" Ariadne clarified. For the past month she had put up with their small banters. Sometimes she found them amusing. This time it was just annoying.

Eames chuckled as he handed her the paper. "We extract exactly what incepted."

"That doesn't make any sense," Arthur frowned. Eames just shrugged and gestured at the file in Ariadne's hands.

"No…" she gasped, scrutinizing the simple piece of paper. "He doesn't just want us to extract. He wants us to take away what we planted."

"But that wouldn't do him any good," the Point Man said and snatched the file from Ariadne's hands. He quickly scanned the black words over. "This is insane," he remarked. "He wants us to extract, not just steal, but _completely_ erase the idea from his mind and plant a new one."

"But we've already divided his father's company," Yusaf pointed out. "Why would he want us to plant the keep the company together?"

"Cobb said, a long time ago," began Ariadne, "the idea starts to define you. So maybe with that extra jumpstart he can fight to bring back the company again."

There was a knock on the door. Everyone froze. Two knocks. Three, four. No one was supposed to come at this time of day. All the procedures had been scheduled as soon as they'd bought off the doctor and nurses. Any medical tests were not to be between two o'clock in the afternoon to five in the evening.

So who could it possibly be?

Arthur and Eames locked eyes and nodded. Ariadne stepped back, drawing the curtain around the hospital beds which effectively cloaked the two comatose men. She watched as the two men drew guns. They had to be careful. This wasn't the dream world. One shot and they could really be dead. The girl noticed Yusaf pull out a sedative just in case. Her hand fumbled with the bishop in her jean pocket.

Arthur approached the door and put his hand on the knob. Slowly he turned it and yanked the door open, pressing his gun to the temple of the visitor. Eames had his pointed at his forehead.

"I sincerely hope you don't kill me." The voice was one they'd heard before and it was one that they did not want to encounter.

Arthur and Eames pulled their guns away. "Fischer," Arthur greeted curtly.

The intruding man dismissed the nurse who closed the door and locked it. "I see you know my name," the entrepreneur said with a slight nod.

"Who doesn't?" Eames muttered and slowly navigated himself back to the table. The team sat in the formation they were in before Fischer had arrived. The remaining man sat down in the vacant chair set there as a reminder. All of them looked away from him uncomfortably.

Arthur took out his loaded die and let it skitter across the table. Landed on four. This wasn't a dream. The die had skittered across the wood towards Fischer. The business man reached out to give it back but Arthur beat him to it. The Point Man locked eyes with Fischer and gave a mysterious smile, telling him to back off.

All four of them did this kind of stuff often. They'd always fumble with their totems, nearly convinced that this was a dream and that the loss of Cobb wasn't real. But of course it was, wasn't it? He was there. The totems didn't lie. Bishops fell in reality; loaded die always lands on four.

"How'd you find us?" Arthur inquired, pocketing the die and leaning back in his chair.

"This hospital is owned by one of the sister companies," Fischer replied.

"Word says you're here for a job."

"Inception. Is it real?"

The four team members exchanged poker face glances. "It's been tried," Arthur answered. "So far we haven't seen a successful inception nor heard of one."

Fischer leaned in closer, obviously interested. "Define _successful_."

"All the dreamers make it out alive and sane, without their perception of reality and dream clouded."

"Have you tried it?" Arthur opened his mouth to answer but something suddenly struck Fischer. "The four of you look oddly familiar."

"We were on the same flight once. Sydney to LA," Ariadne explained, adding in a lie. "We had an offer in Australia."

Fischer nodded. "I see." He thought for a moment. "Funny place to meet. What's behind the curtain?"

This time the tension could be sensed by the team members. "We are here to discuss your job offer Mr. Fischer," Eames interrupted, "not to talk about the formalities of hospital rooms."

"Yes…" Fischer trailed, getting up. The team seemed on edge and went after him, trying to stop him from pulling the curtain.

* * *

Cobb woke up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he glanced at his digital clock. It read half past eight in the morning. He could hear the giggles of his children in the kitchen as they ate breakfast with his mother-in-law.

It had been at least a few years –four or five- since the inception case. He was glad it had worked out. For some reason it still felt like a shade was following him. Not Mal. No, he'd gotten over that. It was something else. Something different. Something… out of the ordinary. Like something had been left behind. Like he was fighting reality.

The top sat on his nightstand. He weighed it in his hand. Then he spun the top and walked away, ready to start another day and his beloved top was left forgotten.

* * *

"But I asked for Cobb's team," Fischer said. "So where's Cobb?" And then he saw the men lying, hooked up, sleeping, dreaming… lost. "What is this?" he demanded.

"An experiment," Arthur quickly covered up.

"Yes, well I did pull a few strings. Looks like you've been coming here for a month already."

"We were performing a very high-level extraction," Arthur lied. "Very complex with many levels. He," Arthur pointed at the slumbering Japanese man, "wanted to oversee us. And then he died."

Fischer scrunched his forehead. "Dying in a dream wakes you up."

"Different circumstances, different methods. He died, went to Limbo. Cobb went to get him."

"Who knows what's happened by now…" murmured Eames.

"Limbo. What's that?"

"Place of infinite subconscious. A level that feels so real your mind starts to believe its reality. You come out, most likely your head's scrambled egg."

"Well then you better get him out of here. I want Cobb on this job too."

"We can't. It's too risky," Arthur said. "How about we talk about what you want first and then we decide. How about that?" He gestured for Fischer to sit down.

"There's the possibility that inception is possible correct?" the entrepreneur began, sounding very professional. Almost like a lawyer.

"True inspiration is nearly impossible to fake."

"So it _is_ possible."

"We don't know that," Yusaf said.

"Then let's _assume_ it is possible."

"We've read your file. You want us to completely erase an idea. That's impossible. But why?"

Fischer scanned the "dream team" he liked to call them. Cobb's team. "I think I was incepted."

* * *

***cue dramatic music***

**Bear with me. I know characterizations might be a bit off. :]**


End file.
